Inevitably Yours (Imagine Ink Book 4)

by Verlene Landon

  “I know. I pretty much had that epiphany, too.”

  “I also know that if he thinks you are too wrapped up in him, he will either push hard the other way or, come to you without dealing with that crap out of some twisted sense of honor.”

  Gus snuggled into her friend’s arm. “I know that, too. Which is why I asked a guy out.”

  The soft stroking of her arm ceased. “Seriously, Pixie, you fucking asked a guy out? For real?” Gus nodded. “Oh, my fucking God, I am so proud of you. So, who is it, where, when?” As if summoned by their words, Gus’ phone rang, and it was Jesse.

  “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

  Gus could hardly keep a straight face while talking on the phone with all the faces and lewd gestures Stacy was making. She had barely hung up when Stacy started dancing around the living room and singing, “My girl is getting laid. My girl is getting laid. She gonna suck some dick, she—”

  “Oh, my God, Stacy, enough already. What are you, twelve? It’s just a movie and dinner. I don’t plan on jumping into bed with anyone anytime soon, especially not on a first date.”

  “You mean especially not John, don’t you?” Gus didn’t answer, she didn’t need to. Stacy stopped singing, dancing, and her attitude went from amused to serious immediately. “I know how much you care about him, but you can’t wait for him to pull his head out of his ass, either.”

  That was the second time she heard it today. Now she was positive that’s what Francis had said, too.

  Stacy hugged her, and then let her go. “Just promise me you’ll give this guy, or any other who might float your boat, a chance. I’m not telling you to give up on John, I believe he will come around and realize what he could have had and come running to you like your snatch is lined in gold. But he can only realize what he lost when it’s not sitting here waiting for him, and hey, if he never does, who knows, this whatshisname could be the one.”

  “Jesse. Whatshisname is Jesse.”

  “As in legal clerk Jesse? Woohoo, girl you are in for the ride of your life, or so I heard. Julie from the probate office went out with him last year after the Christmas party. Everyone was lit, and it was a onetime thing, but the bitch hasn’t shut up about it since. His dick is legend around the courthouse. Carl, who plays on baseball with him, says it’s at least eight inches and not pencil thin either but a nice girthy cock.”

  “Stacy, ew. Why are you waxing poetic about another man’s penis, anyway? You’re usually going on and on about Dax’s.”

  “No one compares to my Dax, I’m just sharing all the information I have with my girl.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks to your…description, I doubt I could look at it, even if I wanted to.”

  “Whatever, pull that stick out of your ass and live a little. For someone who helps men with all sorts of problems including,” she air quoted, “‘penis’ problems, you are kind of a prude sometimes.”

  Ouch.

  That stung coming from Stacy. Maybe because it was true. Her experience in the bedroom with partners was limited, but she knew more about human sexuality than darn near everyone. She was comfortable with her own body, her own nudity…when she wasn’t pregnant, anyway. She explored plenty…solo, she just never had a partner who looked at her body like a new land to be explored and discovered. No one ever tested her limits to see what would provide the most fulfilling experience for her.

  Also, some things are not as easy to unlearn as others. Gus was raised not to openly talk crudely about sex. While she had no shame when it was under the umbrella of healing, she found it was harder for her to just joke about it the way Stacy did.

  “I’m sorry, Pixie, I didn’t mean that as an insult, just that you need to lighten up, especially with me. If you can’t let your hair down with me, then who can you let it down with? You need to be free, like you are in every other area of your life. Trust me, restraining who you are because someone taught you that’s how ladies act is bullshit.” Stacy knew exactly where she was coming from. Other than Jan, she was the one person who knew the most about how she was raised.

  “When John does come around, don’t send him packing because you are afraid to ask for what you want. Because if you do, especially after dating or not pursuing him for a while, he will convince himself it’s because you doubt what you want from him.”

  It felt weird not to be in contact with Augusta, even if it was his idea. They had exchanged a handful of generic texts over the last week, but nothing with any depth to it. No phone calls or visits. When he opted out of the big breakfast the family planned, Stacy had given him her disappointed look, but he needed space. He needed to regain control.

  Of course, he had damn near lost all reason when Andy casually mentioned earlier that she had been in pain the night before that because of contractions. That was somewhat of a turning point for him. John wasn’t ready to dive head first into a serious relationship, but he had heard Augusta was thinking of dating. Even though the thought of her with another man pissed him off to no end, it also gave him back some control. If she wasn’t looking for forever, he could be her right now.

  Besides, she won’t let just any man touch her. That thought had saved his ego, more often than not, in the last handful of days. While the idea of her being able to do casual was appealing to him, the thought of another man so much as tasting her lips turned him into a territorial asshole who wouldn’t think twice about beating anyone to a bloody pulp who dared touch her. Which is ridiculous considering I don’t want exclusivity, but for some reason, where Augusta is concerned, I want her to be a nun. This is why I need to regain control.

  “Thank you, Stacy,” he said to the empty room. If she hadn’t told him Augusta was going to start dating soon, he wouldn’t be heading out the door to go over and ask her out.

  The drive over to Augusta’s just solidified that this was the right thing. John already felt more in control as he knocked on the door.

  When a beautiful young lady with Augusta’s eyes opened the door, John was slightly relieved. There was no rhyme or reason why, but a small measure of peace came to him when she shook her head and said, “John, John, John. I’m January. I was wondering when I’d get to meet you, come on in.”

  January possessed a cool demeanor, one that put him on edge after the kind of warm feeling he had upon seeing her. As she offered him a drink, he realized the peaceful feeling was because Augusta had her baby sister here, finally. He knew how much it meant to her and that made him a little more relaxed.

  However, the chilly and analyzing looks she was tossing his way had him on his toes. I wonder how much she knows? Not that Augusta was the type to tell intimate details as a rule, but this was her sister…and she was giving him the stink eye.

  “So, John. I have about ten minutes before I must leave for work. That means you’ve got about two to finish your Coke, three to decide what you should and shouldn’t say to me, then four to win me over to your side.”

  “That’s only nine.”

  “Well, you wasted precious seconds stating the obvious, and I’ll probably have to look for my keys now that Rick thinks my mini pop-Dean keychain is his. Tick-tock.”

  “I’ll pass on finishing my drink and planning my talking points and cut right to the chase, then.” January crossed her arms and cocked her hip onto the marble countertop. John couldn’t help but smile at that. It was almost exactly the same thing Augusta would do. He could even imagine Augusta talking to someone in January’s life if they were in John’s position. “You ask, I’ll answer to the best of my ability. That way, I don’t waste your time, or mine, with unnecessary information.”

  “A man who cuts through the bullshit, that’s a point in your favor. However, you can’t cut through the bullshit with Gus, why?”

  Wow, off the top rope. Jan was a tiny force to be reckoned with. Much like Augusta, but oh so different. They both liked to get to the heart of the matter, but their approach was night and day. How do I answer this and not come off like a callous
dick?

  “Well, because, without overselling it, I do care about your sister, and the current situation makes that an issue for me.”

  January cut in. “Issue? With the current situation or the caring part?”

  Smart.

  “Both, but, I am trying to find a happy medium.” A few moments of silence struck, and January chewed on his answer.

  “Lynyrd or Skynyrd?”

  What? “Are you asking my favorite cat?”

  “Maybe, or maybe I’m just asking which name you like best, you tell me.”

  Now he was starting to stumble. This question came out of left field and had nothing to do with anything. For a minute, he had a flash back to Es and Is and wondered if he were actually talking to Francis.

  “Neither.” John took pleasure in puzzling her instead of the other way around.

  “Elaborate.”

  “I choose neither, instead I say Rick.” The look on her face was comical. Is it wrong that I’m enjoying this a bit too much? She motioned for him to continue. “Simple, if I have to choose, it has to be Rick. Lynyrd is afraid of his own shadow; Skynyrd isn’t afraid of anything. They are both too extreme. But Rick, Rick just came to the party late and is trying his damnedest to find his place. He questions everything because it all seems too good to be true, and he doesn’t trust it yet. That’s why he runs around out of control, because he is. One day, he’ll figure it out, and he will be a perfect balance of the two extremes of the others.”

  January’s face practically glowed before she caught herself. John half-expected her to start clapping and hopping up and down if her eyes were any indicator. That made him think about what he said. Wow, he had just had an epiphany…talking about cats, of all things.

  “Have you heard she’s dating?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” And here is where it gets tricky.

  “There is no right answer to that.”

  “Pretend you’re Captain Kirk and try.” Augusta’s sister was full of surprises. She looked like a ballerina and had the bite of a snake, but also had the heart of a nerd. Hmm, she and Tori would get along like gangbusters.

  “Yes and no.” When he didn’t elaborate, January gave him a raised eyebrow and tapped her watch. “Yes, because it allows me a chance to maybe get to know her without the pressure of the expectation of a relationship, and no, because I can’t stand the thought of her with another man.” John couldn’t believe he had just told Augusta’s sister that. Well, it was feathers in the wind now.

  After shouldering her duffle bag from the counter, January leaned in and sighed. She backed away a bit and patted his shoulder and muttered, “That’ll do, pig.” It was strangely intimate but not sexually. It was also just strange. Very strange. Again, Tori came to mind.

  She grabbed her keys and opened the front door. John realized she was leaving. “Hey, wait, I still have,” John inspected his watch, “ninety-two seconds, and where is Augusta?”

  “You don’t need ‘em, Kirk, we’re done here. And Augusta went, um…out for a bite to eat, she should be home any minute now. You’re welcome to wait. Gotta run, dollars don’t make themselves.”

  Where the hell is my life heading when that was only the second weirdest conversation I’ve had in the last week? There was something about January that John really liked. He could see how she was the yin to Augusta’s yang. He hoped she stuck around for a while.

  Pacing was overrated and overdone. John had spent the first few minutes doing just that and still, no Augusta and no solid answers. He whistled for Lynyrd to come. He was bored and confused enough to seek out itchy, watery eyes and possibly hives, but Lenny didn’t show. Although a gray tabby head with half an ear poked his head around the corner.

  Shocking. Rick wasn’t running in and out. Not rolling anyone. Instead, he was slinking toward John—cautious and ready for an attack, but coming his way all the same. “Hi, fella.” John lowered himself to the ground and extended his hand. Balancing on one knee, he clicked his mouth at the approaching cat.

  Rick kept coming, slow and steady. Before he knew it, Rick had slunk right up to John and slowly climbed his pants, up his shin, and onto his horizontal thigh and just stood there. Staring.

  Am I being challenged…from my own thigh?

  That’s when he heard it—a low vibration at first, but it increased to a dull roar. His hand wasn’t even on the cat yet, but he was purring.

  When the shock wore off, John slowly brought his hand to the cat and started a slow scratch behind his mangled ear. “Hey, big guy. How you doing?” Rick seemed to stand taller and lean into John’s busy fingers.

  “Augusta is never going to believe this. And look, my allergy pills are working, no hives. Yeah, no hives at all.” John was relishing the attention of a cat…a cat? Not to mention a cat very few people had even seen as anything less than a blur, that had curled up on his thigh and was looking content and sleepy and trusting.

  “Since today seems to be a day of miracles, you wouldn’t happen to have a voice, would you?” As if the damn thing understood him, he opened one eye and studied John intently before closing it yet again. If he were human, John would have expected him to shrug one shoulder in a “try me” fashion.

  “What should I do, boy? I want to be with her, I think more than I have ever wanted to be with another woman. But I just can’t seem to commit to even try to commit. Too much baggage, too much vulnerability, and too little control.”

  Rick did nothing. Not like John expected the wisdom of the world from a cat, but he hoped, yet again, the answer would come to him just out of the blue. For a man who had worked hard for everything he had ever gotten, he seemed to expect a lot from nothing lately.

  “Shit!” John hissed as Rick jumped to all fours, digging his claws through his pants right into the muscle of his thigh. Looking at the front door, Rick growled a warning. John wasn’t sure what set the cat off, but whatever it was, was on the other side of that door.

  “Easy there, big guy,” John soothed while smoothing his ruffled fur with his palm. Rick lowered his growl to a throaty protest and kept his eyes glued to the door except for a glance at John. It felt as if the cat was channeling Lassie for a second. What? Timmy fell down a well?

  John peeled the cat from his leg as he stood. Rick protested when he extended his arms to deposit the pissed off cat on the back of the couch. “Shush.” John allowed the cat to rest in his arms and got to the peephole.

  The distorted sight that greeted him sent ice water straight up his spine, freezing him through. Gus was standing next to the door, clutching foil twisted into the shape of a swan in front of her and blushing a perfect shade of pink. She looked radiant…and nervous.

  Then, there was some asshole—some khaki wearing young punk—eyeing her like she was his dinner, and he was hungry. John knew that look well; this dude was trying to figure out the logistics of going in for a kiss. A haze of anger and jealousy came over John like a wave—a huge, frothy, green wave coating him in unreasonable anger. But in that moment, he didn’t care one bit about reason or about sending the wrong message or anything else except keeping that twerp’s lips off Augusta.

  Without thinking, he ripped open the door with his free hand with Rick still curled up, perfectly content, if not slightly smug, in his other. “Hello,” John announced like he had every right to be there.

  He should have felt guilt at the startled yelps from the two people on the porch, but he didn’t. From the looks on their faces, he had interrupted in the nick of time. Loverboy had gone in for the kiss, just as he suspected, but Augusta gave him the cheek, either because that was her intention or because she turned as John opened the door. Either way, he had ruined the moment. And he was thrilled to have done so.

  Augusta recovered quicker that whathisname did. Placing one hand on her chest as if to slow her racing heart—another thing he would question the cause of later—she addressed him, “John, you scared the daylights out of m
e. What are you doing here?”

  “January let me in before she left for work. Who’s your friend?” John emphasized “friend” and brought himself to his full height. The boy might be young, but he wasn’t small. When he caught himself trying to intimidate his rival, he leaned into the door frame, stroking Rick casually. Like he didn’t care that this punk just tried to kiss his girl. His girl? Whoa, dial it back, John, dial it back.

  “Oh, um, this is...” Augusta was flustered. Good.

  Whatshisname stepped in to save her. How sweet, not. He extended a hand toward John. “Jesse, sir.”

  Sir? Sir? Sure, I’ve got a few years on you asshole, but I’m not her father. And another old fear swam to the surface. John refused to touch Jesse. He grunted and slightly inclined his head; that was all Jesse was getting from him. Jesse dropped his hand and wiped his palm on his stupid khakis. John shifted his gaze toward Augusta and noticed she looked mortified, then stunned.

  Jesse squeezed her bicep and kissed her cheek. John almost threw the cat at him. “Call me?” he asked, more like pled. Pathetic. A real man would tell her to call him, not beg. And either the woman would call or she couldn’t handle him. Augusta didn’t need this punk. While she nodded her agreement, her eyes never left John’s face. He took smug satisfaction in that.

  When she turned to enter, John didn’t budge. He wanted her to take what she wanted, even if it was just entry. I know that’s who you are, Augusta, show me. John realized he was now the one begging, and he begrudgingly moved out of the way before Augusta moved in.

  After setting her leftovers and purse down, she turned to him in amazement. John puffed up and took pride in that…until she spoke. It wasn’t him she was amazed with at all, or at least, not for the reason he wanted.

  Propping her hands on her hip, she gawked at the fluffy burden in his arm. “Well, look at you, Rick. All content and happy.” Her twinkling gaze rose to his, and it took his breath away. “He doesn’t even let me hold him, much less carry him around like a baby.” Then she let words slip out of her mouth that changed his course of action. “I always knew you were special, John Roberts. And Rick is one lucky cat. What I wouldn’t give to be in his…”